A Christmas Invitation
by Elke fa Talia
Summary: Modern day. Race invites Spot to Christmas at his place & Spot blows up. Spraceintended. M for language.


//So I decided to post this up, since I only have two scenes written, others probably won't be produced in quite a while, and the scenes aren't of any use sitting on the back burner and slowly fermenting. This scene is intended to be Sprace, at the phase in their relationship where they're not just acquaintances, but not yet friends, either. A present to Tale.//

With a curiously long stride for his short height, Race strolled towards the slim figure with trepidation, his heart racing. He easily ignored the looks from the students surrounding him, acquiring no nervousness from their attention as he approached the high school's biggest enigma. The enigma itself, however, made him nervous. The Italian's hands hovered over the two red plastic tubes shoved into his pockets. They were his only form of backup, as his new friends had refused to come with him.

More like, they'd begged him not to go.

Higgins came to a stop in front of said enigma and smiled when it decided to acknowledge his presence by raising a delicately curved eyebrow. He then held out one of his plastic wrappers.

"Skittles?"

Waiting slightly longer than necessary, Spot snorted and grabbed the candy offered.

"'S bribery your solution to everything?" he muttered cryptically. Race gave a half-shrug and popped a couple of reds into his mouth, watching the falling jaws of the stunned people throughout the courtyard. Race found himself a slightly amazed that Sean had accepted food as well, but the expressions on the student's faces were comical to the point of exaggeration. He found them extremely amusing, like a herd of deer caught in the headlights. The way they grouped with their friends, tightly clumped, distantly amused him as well. It was almost like they thought that standing near their friends would stave off the cold of the approaching winter. His gaze swung back to Spot, who stared at Race with boredom and intensity as if waiting for entertainment. Sean, as always, wore a thin shirt despite the weather. For the cold snap, he'd replaced short sleeves for long ones and had brought a sweatshirt. However, his sweatshirt lay stuffed into his backpack (Race could see the hood peeking out) and Spot sat in the chill without a shiver or twitch. Race, on the other hand, had buried himself in his favorite oversized coat.

The pause had gone on more than long enough for Sean, who believed that if he deigned to have Race near him, the least the Italian could do was act normally and chatter his ear off.

"No half-assed, sarcastic retort?" Spot asked, giving Race a look that spoke, in short, _if you want to stick around, you better start talking, and it better be worth my while._

Okay, so Sean had a talkative mood. Interesting.

Hell, Spot in _any_ mood was interesting.

"If anyone's got less than half an ass, it isn't me," Race said smoothly, grinning, and began to pick out a handful of Skittles, grape this time. He sat beside Sean on the courtyard steps.

"I may have less than half a' ass, but I got brains too, and more than just half a' one. Why the hell'd you buy me a pack a' _Skittles?_"

Race shrugged. "It's the only thing you've been seen eating in school."

If Higgins had bothered to notice his surroundings, he would have laughed out loud. Spot was having a hard time not snickering at the nonplussed students around the courtyard, furtively whispering amongst themselves and theorizing as to why the new kid hadn't been shot or castrated yet. They couldn't hear what he and Race were talking about - the wind was traveling the wrong direction, and, furthermore, none of them dared to eavesdrop.

However, Spot had perfected the art of holding conversation and simultaneously being aware of his surroundings, and found his short temper building. He wasn't about to be sidetracked from what he wanted to know by some half-assed retort, however true it may be. Sean pursed his lips, his 'impatient' look, and seemed more of a pretty boy to Race than Race had ever seen him. The look didn't phase Race anymore, Spot noted, and the knowledge made him even more short-tempered.

"Okay, so it's a peace offering." Race took a steadying breath. "You remember how I'm a mama's boy? So my mama wants me to invite somebody over for Christmas dinner."

"So?" Sean's tone was sharp. Race swallowed a couple more Skittles and began talking rapidly.

"Well, the first thought I had was of your less than half a' ass." Spot's face darkened, but Race didn't notice. "If you can come, you'd need to dress nice, show up at 7:30 sharp, edit out the swearing, and, um, eat something."

There was a pause, and Race waited it out calmly.

Spot seemed to explode all at once, his eyes sharp and spinning and the rest of him tense and controlled as a cat on the hunt. His overwhelming presence, the thing that'd first drawn Race towards him, was switched on full and conversely pushing Higgins away.

"Thought of me? What the fuck's that s'posed to mean? What if I've got my own family, my own dinner, huh? Shitty idiot of a midget. Stick to your own shitty friends; their crap has already rubbed off onto you!"

Spot was on his feet now, his face twisted into a harsh snarl and dirty blond hair haphazardly flying around his head and into his eyes. The courtyard was dead silent and the bystanders within it all snuck glances at Sean and the new kid. Braver seniors and shocked freshmen blatantly stared.

Race was bewildered. Spot held a grudge against his other friends, apparently, for what he didn't know, but the most disturbing fact remained that Sean was yelling at him, and it was scary, and Spot was very visibly having a hard time trying not to sock him.

But Higgins, methodical in all his thoughts excepting his impulse to gamble, decided to take the high road.

Plus, the first few weeks of school were _not_ a good time to get into a fight, especially if one had a crazy Italian mother.

"Fine," he said in a shaky, angry voice. "The offer still stands."

Race left, ready and willing to shove anybody that got in his way, but they scattered as if he was a train on the fast track to hell. The scrutiny he received would've made him laugh at any other time (attention: wasn't that what he'd wanted just a day ago?), but today he felt like a carefully dissected insect.

Behind him, Sean settled himself into a sprawl over the steps once more. He was still scowling and busied himself with staring people down until they "motivated" their friends to move out of the courtyard. It wasn't often that Spot employed this tactic to empty a huge space, but when he did so his stares were quite effective.

His temper was still hot by the time they had all scurried out. How _dare_ that bastard pity him? What the fuck was wrong with Higgins? Did he think they were friends or something? Sean emitted a short bark of laughter. Right, friends. Spot had something close to friends at his old home, sure, but here? The people were all pansies here. Friends with a soft-hearted midget with puppy-dog eyes, that'd be the day.

Spot's mind skipped to other things after he'd mocked Race long enough to restore his mood and, minutes later, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. He couldn't help but snort as the thought hit him again randomly.

_ Friends_.

//Good? Bad? Comments highly appreciated.//


End file.
